The Peterbuilt Kidnapping
by The1upguy
Summary: When Mater gets a call from someone in the past, he shows his new wife the strength he has inside for anyone in trouble, even if they broke his heart years ago. An evil Mob boss has taken the Trucking Giant's son. Can Mater, with the help of his British connections, find the Peterbuilt boy in time, or is there something else to this crime. Rated T for intense situations.
1. The Honeymoon is Over

**Hello cars fans, I came up with a new story, and one I hope you'll like. It does not follow the Overhaulin' story...In fact, you don't even need to read that one, because I will barely make mention of my other OC. However, there is one Car I did describe briefly in Overhaulin', and she is a focal point in this story. You still don't need to read it, because I will explain her again later on.**

**Now please enjoy a small taste of my next adventure into the cars world, and find out how good Mater really is at being a secret agent. **

* * *

The Peterbuilt Kidnapping

Chapter One: The Honeymoon is over!

The Sun was shinning brightly, as it always does on the big isle of Hawaii, filling this glorious day with more reminders than his mind can handle. A permanent smile is glued on Mater's front grille, as the rusty tow truck takes in all the sights the huge resort has to offer his wide eyes.

Staring intently at a small volcano, built as the vacation spots' center piece, Mater has watched several eruptions of the car-made attraction, becoming more and more anxious with each ejection of warm lava.

Several cars chuckle driving by the old tow truck, watching him keep a path clear of the geyser, so no one gets hurt. They laugh as they drive by, making him realize after a few moments that there is no danger, and Mater quickly smiles.

"Shoot its suppose ta do that isn't it?" He asks with a dumb look upon his face, and several more cars laugh. It doesn't bother Mater in the least, knowing that this simple life is truly what he is, and also the reason he has so many friends.

"Excuse me sir!" A young voice remarks, and Mater looks down at a small white VW. He smiles quickly seeing a child's eyes looking back, and lowers himself to hear the young car's question.

"You gotta lot of dents all over! Do you even know how to drive?"

"HERBIE!" A mother's voice barks out, after hearing her son ask an insulting question. "That's not a nice thing to say!"

The young car cowers as a yellow Peugeot rolls alongside her son.

"I'm sorry mister!" She remarks, turning her fenders a shade of reddish-range with embarrassment. "I hope you were not offended, but my boy loves to ask strangers questions that he knows he shouldn't!"

"Oh it's nothin' miss..." Mater replies showing a smile to the young mother and son, making her feel more comfortable with his easy dismissal of a child's curiosity.

"...and I know it sounds crazy an all, but these here dents are very special ta me, and I'd never fix 'em."

Mater continues cheering up the young car, and calming his mother with the ease he has talking about something that is normally rude to point out. However, this tow truck's view on dents are much different then any other car in the world.

"Each one of these tells me a story about the good friends I know and love." He continues, impressing the young mom with his poise, and allowing him to go on about his life for a moment.

"They remind me of the path I've taken, and the cars that influenced my way down the road..."

Mater looks at a small bump in his front fender, remembering an old Hudson that made the very first impression.

"_...Especially if they are no longer with us!"_

Mater keeps that last part to himself, not wanting his words to this young car to be depressing in any way, when suddenly, he is shocked as the little VW hits his front bumper with a decent impact, leaving a small indentation scarred with white paint. The yellow Peugeot is mortified as her son slams the unsuspecting tow truck with his front end, putting a large dent in his own nose. However, before she can say a word, her son lets out the most heart-felt thing both cars have ever heard.

"I hope I will remember you now, because you're a very nice man!" The young car says, then simply drives off towards the water slide that has suddenly caught his interest.

"Oh my heavens..I'm so sor..."

Mater holds up a tire, stopping the young mother's apology before she finishes, and shows a great smile upon his hood-less front end. He can feel the sensation of meeting a new friend, even if it was only for a moment in his life.

"No reason to be sorry for something I will treasure forever ma'am."

The young mother begins to tear up hearing such sincerity in a stranger's voice, and truly believing his word, however, her pride turns to shock, as Herbie suddenly slams into another car along his path.

"HERBIE!" She yelps, realizing her son now wants everyone in the largest resort on the Big Isle to remember him...and I think they will!

"Sheeeesh! That boy's gotta lot a spunk..." Mater remarks to himself, looking over towards the pool, and the group of photographer that always seem to surround his friend, every where he goes.

"...I'll sure feel sorry fer McQueen and Sally if they have a VW too!"

The rusty tow truck knows Sally is pregnant, though it is still only a rumor in the small town of Radiator Spring. However, being Lightning's best friend, he found out from the source the next day.

He imagines his race car buddy having the same trouble a young Peugeot is experiencing at this moment, still trying to catch her son, and failing miserably. However, he suddenly notices something in his rear view mirror, and his eyes pop open with fear.

"OH MY GOSH!" He barks, seeing a group of four drinks sitting on his tow-lift, and remembering he went for cocktails some time ago.

Quickly he drives towards the crowd of cars snapping pictures of the Piston Cup champ and his bride, burrowing through the paparazzi to get to his friend.

"Sorry Buddy!" He remarks, placing down two glass between the red race car and the glowing blue Porsche.

"I'll get rid of them now!"

Mater spins around quickly showering McQueen and Sally with the two remaining drinks on his back, and begins howling and posturing to attack the photo happy cars.

"Do you folks mind! My friends are on their second honeymoon, and don't wanna be bothered with all them flashing lights OK!"

"MATER...EASY!" Lightning barks out, turning on his wipers to clear his eyes of cocktail umbrellas and ice.

"It's not a bother buddy, and I don't mind a few pictures, but I do mind what you're doing right now!"

Mater becomes uneasy as his friend rolls forward with an annoyed look on his face.

"What am I doing?" He asks, feeling the butterflies fill his gas tank with no recollection to why his friend is mad. However, his friend's next words smack him hard across the face.

"You're making your wife sit by herself in Hawaii...on the first day of her marriage!"

Mater's eyes open wide again, as his vows return in a blitz of memories, wiping away the shock of what he did the day before, and recalling why he is in Hawaii now. He looks over towards the shady area where he left the new Mrs. Holley Shiftwell-Mater, and sorrow begins to set in upon his windshield.

It was almost an hour ago when he went to get the drink she wanted, and now the light purple-colored sports car is nowhere to be seen.

"Oh no!" The dented tow truck whispers softly, now feeling sick to his stomach. "I lost track of what I was doin', and got distracted again!"

"Well I think that distraction was beautiful..." An elegant English voice remarks from behind her new husband. Holley slowly rolls up to her stunned groom, and rubs the dent he just got on his fender.

"...because I love watching my husband make new friends the most!"

Mater smiles with her touch, and gently kisses his wife upon the nose of her polished hood.

"And I love how you always sneak up on me...then make me feel better that next moment."

Both Sally and McQueen notice the same passion they still have towards each other, as their friends show great affection again with a more powerful kiss.

"Excuse me, Mister Tow Mater!" The hotel's concierge calls out, breaking this moment with an alerting tone, and getting everyone's attention with his next words. "You have a very urgent call from Radiator Springs!"

"I know they wouldn't bother us unless it was real important..." Sally remarks with concern, as Mater rolls towards the phone placed before him, and grasps it up to his ear. "...I hope everything is OK?"

"Hello!" Mater says with a curious tone, and quickly his eyes show shock, as a voice from the past is heard on the other end.

"Mater...is that you?"

Her voice is distorted with fear, but quickly the dented tow truck knows exactly who he is talking to, and his heart begins to pound inside his chest.

"Doreen?"

"YES!"

"HOLY SHOOT!" He screams, making everyone in the entire resort turn their heads to his shout.

"What are you doing back home in Radiator Springs!"

"Who is Doreen?" Holley asks with a curious tone, as Mater begins speaking in a lower voice.

Sally's eyes open wide, as she was told by several of the town's older residences exactly who Doreen was.

"Uuummmm..." Sally pauses, trying to think of how to say it, but Holley rolls up to her face with a very angered look.

"WELL!" The purple car barks, forcing Sally to spit out what she didn't want to say.

"His ex-girlfriend!" The Porsche yelps out with fear, then shows embarrassment in her eyes.

"HIS WHAT?!" She barks with anger, and turns her vengeful eyes towards her soon to be EX husband.

However, when she sees the fear-filled shock on Mater's face, and a tremble in his frame she's only seen once upon the alter, the young wife becomes concerned. Holley quickly taps into the phone line, listening in on the conversation that is scaring her love.

"They just took him, Mater...and I don't know what to do now!"

Doreen's fear scares Holly, and so does her husband's enraged look.

"You did the right thing Doreen, but now I need you to calm down..." Mater replies with a tone that keeps his wife on edge, never hearing him so serious. "...you just stay where you are, you already know you're with friends."

Mater looks over to his wife, knowing she is listening in, and making sure his eyes show the pain of his next sentence. However, his tone remains stable for both to hear.

"I'm on my way!"

* * *

**I love writing about Mater, and it's high time we show how smart he really is. However, making him angry and serious is tough, and I can't wait to try. **

**No Need to stay tuned, because Chapter 2 is right behind this one! **


	2. Smash and Grab

**Here we go folks, no waiting for action**

* * *

Chapter Two: Smash and Grab

A steady rain had started falling in the Meadowlands just as the game ended, making the normally congested New Jersey Turnpike a parking lot. However, no amount of traffic could take the smile from a young green and black Dodge Ram pickup, rolling close to his big rig father.

"I told you the Jets would beat the Steelers Dad!" He remarks, turning on his wipers as they enter the tailgating area outside Met-Life Stadium. The team colors he had sprayed on earlier, begin running from his true black coat.

"Now pay up, Loser!"

His dad gives a gentle smirk, as he removes his hometown Steelers hat, and puts it in his mouth.

"Thererer...I horrp ...yorre...harppy, Tomarsss!" the large black and chrome Peterbuilt replies while munching his cap, showing the anger in his eyes for his favorite team's loss.

Several white police cruisers suddenly roll up beside the Father and Son, and both nod in acknowledgment of their escort.

"As usual the Turnpike's a disaster, Sampson, so I will leave the navigating to you!" The lead Crown Victoria remarks, knowing the great truck personally, along with his vast knowledge of New Jersey's back-roads.

"I think we should take the North exit, and go up Smith St, then we head down Iron Bridge Ave to the service road beside Interstate 80. It's six miles of empty road before we merge Westbound, so we can get ahead of the rush. That should leave us in very light traffic by the time we get there."

The officer's eyes widen, knowing the large truck is talking about a route that only cops can take, and sounding as if he has done it many times before. However, with the amount of respect this truck pulls, and knowing the support he gives to the State PBA along with all the small businesses in the area, the trooper just nods his head, and turns on his top lights.

"Lets move then...I don't want to be out in this rain all night!"

The large truck smiles with the officer's respect, and looks down at his son showing the pride his actions in the past have had.

"Are you ready for a fast ride out of here, Thomas?"

The teenaged black Ram pickup shows a wide grin, as the last of the Jet's green paint sheds from his frame.

"NO! I'm fine with hanging out for a little while Dad..." He replies sarcastically, then fires up his huge V-8 Turbo-Diesel power-plant. "...but I guess you want to get as far away from the place where your precious Steelers just got their trunks handed to them!"

The large trucking mogul shows a very annoyed smirk, then gestures the lead officer to begin.

"Yes I do!"

The journey through the parking lot is uneventful and fast, as four police cruisers lead the huge sponsor from Met-Life Stadium. However, a young son keeps poking at his father's agitation with more of their lifelong sports rivalry.

"I can't believe a guy they call 'THE BUS' couldn't break through our defensive line, Dad..." His son continues, recalling one moment in the game that killed his father's teams' chance of winning. Sampson is about to make a retort, however his son is quicker, and makes light of a this loss with a family joke.

"...He must be a Freightliner!"

Sampson gives a hearty laugh, as they pull out of the massive North Lot and on to Smith St., feeling all the emotions this day of bonding has brought.

"OK Tom...I can go along with that!" The large truck replies, stopping at the light for Iron Bridge Ave.

Both trucks stare at each other with smiles, but for completely different reasons.

Thomas, for finally having his moment in the Sun...I mean the rain, and of course Sampson, for just seeing his son so happy. They turn right together, making the final trek up the public roads with a police escort.

Many cars wave at the large truck and his son, showing no ill will towards the privileged drivers, as many in the Garden State know of the powerful Peterbuilt family, and the things they have done for New Jersey.

Sampson blows his loud horn several times, acknowledging the cars whom continue to cheer a huge NFL sponsor, and remarkable individual.

"This is so cool Dad!" Thomas remarks, feeling the pride his father is getting, and not truly understanding the reason. He knows his dad is responsible for many jobs, and that the cars that work for him show more respect then this. However, it is when total strangers show him love, this is when the young truck feels awe himself.

"Why aren't these cars angry at us? I mean I would be a bit annoyed to sit in traffic and allow the privileged to go by!"

Sampson stops directly in the middle of the road, holding up traffic a moment longer to scold his son.

"WE ARE NOT PRIVILEGED!" He says with a loud voice, scaring this one line into Thomas' memory, making sure he understands. Sampson begins heading up Iron Bridge Ave again, then takes a deep breath for a long and personal talk with his son.

"I hope you understood what I meant by that Thomas, because you've never shown me that you would even think we are..._privileged_, as you put it!"

Thomas rolls up to his father's front end, holding close to his mouth, making sure he hears every word spoken with clarity. Sampson can see the concern in his boy's eyes, and smiles inside feeling another life lesson he is giving his oldest will be heard loud and clear.

"Yes Thomas...I have an abundant amount of money, and the ability to make things happen that most cars cannot, but that was because of the hard work I've done over the past fifty years, and not because I bribed my way like others. I gained this respect with over a hundred million miles of hauling, using nothing but my own power and sweat."

Sampson looks around at the many trucks he employees, seeing them unloading in nearly every store and gas station they pass while heading down the road, all with smiles as they work.

"Because of my efforts early in life, I can sit back and raise my family without a struggle, but I also make sure the people who work for me, give the same effort!" He remarks, knowing full well his son is aware he will inherit the family business some day.

"Everyone must work hard to get paid handsomely for their efforts, and this will be no different for you...I promise that!"

Thomas smiles, knowing he is going to start working next year, anxiously awaiting for his moment to impress. He has been studying the routes his father once took, and following the veteran drivers on long hauls just to get a better idea of the family business.

"I do understand dad, and I didn't mean to sound like a spoiled brat before." Thomas replies, then points out the thickening traffic, still moving to the right for the police convoy.

"But you do have to admit, this is a bit of a _privilege_ here!"

Sampson smirks himself, knowing what is was like sitting in traffic for years, and slowly nods his head.

"OK Thomas, maybe I have a few privileges, but I like to call them...benefits!"

Both trucks give a quick chuckle, however, as all the traffic begins to come to a grinding stop, Sampson and Thomas are force to lock up their brakes.

"WHOA!" The large Peterbuilt remarks, seeing the white trunk of his friend getting really close to his nose, but still stopping an inch from his bumper.

The State Trooper noticed him coming but never moves, making sure he takes the impact instead of the civilians stuck in a horrific snarl of traffic.

"Office Malloy...see what's going on ahead!" The lead officer remarks with concern, noticing a large flashing arrow pointing to the right, moving cars onto a narrow road.

"What is it sir!" The other forward running cruiser replies, hearing a tone of caution from his superior.

"There is no construction scheduled for Iron Bridge Ave today!"

"Madison, Hawkins, get up here..." The officer barks to the two cruisers trailing the escort. "...we may have an ambush ahead!"

Sampson's eyes open wide hearing the trooper's words, and quickly taps the lead officer's back fender.

"We need to get my son out of here now!"

Thomas becomes slightly worried as his father turns off the main road, heading down a residential street, something he never does. His eyes scanning back and forth, making sure his path is clear on this very narrow road, knowing he would not be able to stop if someone came running out of their garage.

"Easy Dad...I'm sure it's nothing!" Thomas barks, believing his father is just overreacting to another threat against the Billionaire trucking giant.

"Besides, I don't think anyone can hurt you moving at this speed!"

Sampson suddenly locks up his brakes, forcing his son and the single trooper staying on their rear bumper to stop hard behind him.

"The threat was not made towards me Thomas!"

The young pick up takes a second before his eyes open wide, and suddenly jumps at the sound of gun fire.

"MALLOY... REPORT!" The trooper barks out, hearing the shots fired from Iron Bridge Ave.

"SHOTS FIRED...SHOTS FIRED!" Several officers yell into their radios, now chasing the two fake constructions workers.

"Sargent...you need to get the kid out of here, the threat appears to be real!"

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Thomas barks with a sudden fear for his life, looking around with every mirror he has. "They want me!"

"Listen to me son!" The large black and chrome rig replies, locking his fender with his frightened child. "They have to get through me first, and that is not gonna happen, but yes, the threat was made against you this time!"

Thomas takes several deep breaths, unable to clear the adrenaline running through his fuel line.

"Dad!" He says, and Sampson just holds his son tighter.

"I swear they will never get you, not while I can still move!"

Thomas takes a moment to settle, as the large Peterbuilt gazes around for any signs of trouble. Sampson plots a course in his head at this same moment, keeping himself and his son from the truck routes until they hit the heavily populated Interstate.

"We need to stay hidden back here, Clark. We can access the Interstate at 57 without leaving this quiet neighborhood" The large rig remarks to his good friend after coming up with an alternate route, then looks down at his son.

"And you need to stay right on my bumper, Understood!"

"Yes dad!" Is all Thomas can say, then quickly hugs the trailer section of his father as he starts moving again.

Both trucks head down the narrow road, keeping their speed slow, allowing for caution at every intersection. Trooper Clark also keeps a low profile, leaving his lights off so they don't attract anyone's attention to their path through a residential area.

"Take it easy son, you're starting to run rich!" Sampson remarks after a mile of slow driving, hearing his son's engine begin sputtering with fear. "We're almost there, and you will have to be ready to move fast again when we get to the Interstate, so clear out that engine!"

Thomas, takes another deep breath, and revs his throttle removing the extra diesel he pulled into his carburetor.

"Just one more turn, then we hit the gas son!"

"I'm right behind you dad!"

* * *

Meanwhile, as the game began to let out and the rain started to fall, a flatbed tow truck parks himself just off Exit 57 of Interstate 80. His attitude is fierce as the rain makes his mood worsen.

"What am I doing in the middle of suburbia?" He barks out to himself, parked in a residential area, miles from The Meadowlands.

"The game is over, and I'm nowhere near the Stadium!" He continues, looking around at the thick groove of trees to keep the highway noises down for the residents in this area. "How in the name of weight limits restrictions is this the path Sampson will take...I don't get it!"

The sounds of nature and the constant beat of rain of the Freightliner's hood drives him to keep talking to himself, and soon he asks the right question.

"Why on earth did you tell me to come here Marauder?"

"Because..." A deep voice calls out from the trees, startling the flatbed tow truck, as he rolls out from his hiding spot. "...this is the path he will take, Flattop. I assure you."

The three car carrying flatbed quickly catches his breath recognizing the massive assault truck that told him to meet up here.

This large black and dark red Armored Personnel Carrier looks very similar to a H2 Hummer, but one that's pumped up on steroids. Armored from his wide nose winch to his tail pipe, the twelve ton truck digs a deep trench into the muddy ground with his four-foot tires. He is alert to all the things around him, and is confident in his stance, along with his reasoning to be here.

"If you don't mind me asking again Mr. Marauder...because you really didn't spell it out to me before... but why would a forty ton truck come down this narrow residential road?"

"You at least ask the right questions my simple friend, and that is why I picked you, unlike your boss' other morons that are setting up an ambush on every truck route leaving the stadium. " The large vehicle remarks with a sarcastic tone, then focuses his eyes as he begins to explain why they came to this spot.

"Sampson Peterbuilt is a rolling map, and a genius when it comes to getting around..._problems_!" He says, showing a large smile on his face, feeling a certain pride in a truck's having brains and not just brawn. "The Turnpike is always a parking lot after a Jet game, and Route 3 will be even worse...so this guy will take the service roads to get his son home faster, and that will lead him north. Now, I know some of your idiotic friends will be playing their cards on Iron Bridge Ave, trying to force the large truck on an alternate route for an easy ambush..."

He looks over at the Flatbed truck and smirks. "...probably with some lame construction detour!"

Flattop chuckles, knowing everyone in the entire group went out with construction gear except him. He was told by his boss to follow Marauder's order without question, and to this point Flattop has done his job with little feedback, until now.

"So why here, sir?" He asks, looking as a student would to his mentor. "I truly want to understand from the best, why did we come here?"

Marauder smiles hearing respect from a truck that gave him so little when he arrived two months ago, and helped plan the abduction of a Billionaire's son.

"Peterbuilt will have a police escort, and they will know something is not right immediately, sending the truck from his set path. He will do anything to keep his son safe, as would I, and that means driving through a residential area."

Flattop's eyes open wide and a grin fills his blunt face, knowing Iron Bridge Ave is on the other side of this large development.

"That would bring him right here to Exit 57!"

"Precisely, my friend..." Marauder remarks, hearing the faint sounds of gunshots fired from miles away, echoing softly amongst the ambient noise. "...and now we just need to be ready, for the prey is coming to us!"

"Yes Sir!"

The large red assault vehicle slowly backs into the spot he was sitting quietly before Flattop pulled up, looking down the light trafficked road for tell tale signs of a big rig's marker lights. His eyes open wide as Peterbuilt cuts the hard turn from a residential road, and makes his presence known with a full throttle acceleration to the Interstate, now within his sight.

"Get ready to block the road Flattop!"

"You're really serious about blocking him...cause I thought you were kidding!" the Freightliner remarks, hearing the closing truck hit every gear with precision, and knowing Peterbuilt's speed is easily enough to destroy any blockade.

"He'll tare me apart!"

"Just do as I tell you..." He whispers with anger, making sure his point is heard

"...I will tell you when to move out of his way!"

Flattop's heart races with his engine, as he pulls across the narrow two lane road, giving Sampson no way to get around. However, the chrome nosed Peterbuilt has no intentions of deviating from his path, seeing the silhouette of a Freightliner, and the rival company that threatened his son.

"Stay on my bumper Thomas!" The large rig barks out, increasing his speed harder, and the full-sized ram truck taps his dad's rear to let him know he is right there.

Flattop begins to sweat, hearing no slow in the charging semi's engine, and seeing his life flash before his eyes.

"What am I doing?" the much smaller truck remarks aloud.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Flattop instinctively begins to back up, saving his life, but angering Marauder.

"NOT YET YOU FOOL!" He yells, seeing what he did not want to happen becoming unavoidable.

The large red and black APC is forced to make his move a few seconds earlier, allowing Sampson to see him before he would have liked. Marauder is no longer able to just flip the big rig with a surprise impact to his trailer, and must take a more direct route to his cab.

The impact is loud, and the force catches both trucks off guard.

Sampson is devastated by the incredible blow to his driver's side, feeling like he was hit with a wrecking ball and not a truck. The tractor-trailer is thrown from nine of his normally stable eighteen wheels, sliding sideways off the asphalt surface and into a small ravine lining the road.

Marauder's shock is different, and fear is what he feels. He knew taking Sampson from the side would allow him to move from his son's path, but a full impact would stun him. Now, unable to move quick enough, Marauder watches helplessly as Thomas' momentum carries the young pickup into his armored frame.

This was the last thing he wanted.

"DARN YOU FLATTOP! I said wait for my signal" He yells with rage, looking back at the shuttering flatbed with anger in his eyes.

"You made me hurt this young car for no reason!" he continues with a more concerned tone, watching vital fluids begin pouring from the black Dodge's smashed nose. "Now get your butt over here before I wreck you!"

"YES SIR!" The tow truck replies, quickly rolling over to the downed pick-up and lowering his bed to hoist him up.

"Be careful with him, Flattop...I don't want him to feel any more pain then he has already!"

"Yes Sir, and I'm very sorry for moving early!" Understanding this kid's damage was not meant to happen.

The Flatbed tow truck begins reeling in their catch, as red and blue lights begin flashing close by.

"POLICE...STOP OR I WILL SHOOT!"

Marauder slowly turns around to look the lone trooper in the eyes, staring down his dual barreled shotgun with a smile.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that officer, I need to bring this young man to my associate, so I will make you a counter offer!" The odd looking truck replies, edging closer and closer to the armed Crown Victoria. "Lower your weapon, leave your radio on the side of the road, and just go home to your family. I don't want to keep another father from his kids...with weeks of painful repairs!"

Trooper Clark shows anger, but quickly sees a vision of his son, and the fear that comes with every dangerous confrontation on the job. However, he also sees his friend's son being stolen before his eyes, and his duty becomes crystal clear, even if it means the worse.

Without a single word spoken, Trooper Clark fires both barrels of his shotgun.

The look of shock that fills his face, watching both slugs bounce harmlessly from the large truck's thick hide, makes Marauder show a bit of an arrogant grin. The large truck suddenly lunges forward with his powerful engine, rolling his front tire up onto the Crown Victoria's hood, crushing Trooper Clark's front end helplessly to the ground. Marauder then tares the large gun from the officer's side, and cocks a new set of rounds into position.

"I asked you politely not to do that!" He remarks, aiming the gun at the police car's antenna, and pulling the trigger. "I do not want to kill anyone here, which is why I stopped before anything vital!"

"What am I supposed to thank you or something!" The trooper remarks with painful sarcasm, as the large truck backs off his nose, and Marauder aims the gun down to his engine block.

"No! But some simple consideration would be nice!" He retorts, dropping the gun upon the trooper's caved-in hood.

"I only disabled you officer, and because of _my consideration_...you will get to see your family in a few days!" Marauder turns away, heading back toward the flatbed, slowly locking the young truck in place upon his back.

"_Which is more than I can say for myself!"_

The large APC takes a deep breath, as a vision of his son quickly flashes in his mind, and the reason he is doing something he is greatly conflicted with. Marauder then pulls alongside of Flattop, making sure Thomas is secure for a quick ride to New York City.

"I'm sorry my young friend, but I have no choice!" He whispers to the black pickup, moaning with pain from his damage, but mostly seeing his father in a position he never thought possible.

"Daaaad!" Thomas struggles to speak, looking at the under carriage of his powerful father, and hearing him blow water from his exhaust.

"NOOO!" He cries, as the flatbed begins to pull off. "Please don't let him drown!"

"STOP FLATTOP!" Marauder barks, making his friend brake hard.

"STOP WHAT?" He questions with fear-filled rage. "We got him sir, now let's get the heck out of here!"

"Not yet!" Marauder replies, tossing his winch cable over Sampson's side, and pulling the big rig up-rite. The large APC turns his eyes to Thomas, and nods his head.

"I have no intention of taking your father's life young one, but I cannot have him chasing us down the Interstate either. I only forced him to take in a few gallons of water, shutting down his engine. He will be fine in a few days."

The large assault vehicle rolls forward to his young captive, and shows a seriousness he's never felt before from just a stare.

"But if you don't cooperate, I will slam into you your father full force...and this time, I will aim for something vital!"

Thomas is defeated quickly with this threat, seeing the damage done to his father is excessive already. He nods his head in cooperation as the tears begin to form on his windshield.

"I'll do what ever you want, sir! Just please don't hurt my dad anymore"

His reply strikes Marauder through his armor, and the large assault vehicle quickly pulls a tarp over the teary-eyed truck, making sure his emotions were not seen by the young car.

"_I'm sorry kid..."_ He says to himself as Flattop takes off for the Eastbound lanes of the Interstate. _"...I didn't mean to scare you like that!"_

The large truck takes a deep breath, overwhelmed with the emotions of what he is doing, before confronting a broken father. He can see Peterbuilt is moving forward again, and quickly position himself before the wrecked truck.

"Shut it down Sampson... you're no good to him if you die here!" He remarks, stopping the large rig with a stiff tap to his front end. "Get that engine drained, and wait for our call. If you do what you're told, I promise you will be with your son again!"

"You tell your boss I will be coming for my boy, and I will kill anyone that gets in my way...including you!"

Marauder pushes his front end into Sampson's chromed grille, causing a pain the trucking legend has never felt in years of excessive driving.

"He is not my boss, and I don't want to do this, but I have no choice." He remarks, showing Peterbuild a deep resolve in his dark eyes, before backing away from the larger semi.

"Mr. Duesenberg means business now, and we both know his business is not honorable. Do not mess this up, or it will not be your nose I'm told to crush the next time!"

Sampson feels a deep pain inside, helpless to stop his son's kidnapping, and hearing a mortal threat against his boy, however he also notices a tear forming on his attacker's windshield. He watches Marauder pull out a cell phone and dial 911 before placing it beside his heavily damage driver's side.

"Please understand I have my reasons, and they are not much different than yours now..." The large truck remarks humbly, looking deep into the fading eyes of a distraught father with his own.

"...I just want my family back."

"Help is on the way!" Marauder barks out towards the officer, still trying to move forward himself, but unable to budge with his entire front end smothered into the pavement. He then focuses on the passed out truck, sputtering from this devastating moment in his life, and whispers in his direction.

"Try to calm yourself big fella, I promise you...he will not harm your son."

* * *

**I promise you...this is only gets better from here, but I would love to hear what you think so far.**


	3. Hign Emotions

**A lot of hits already, and only two chapters...thank you.**

**I'm sorry about the length of time to post this chapter, but I had to work OT this week.**

* * *

Chapter Three: High Emotions

His eyes are sharply focused upon the TV, taking in all the details of Trooper Clark's dashboard camera, and feeling nothing but anger and disbelief in his heart. Everyone else in the room is in awe, seeing the 12-gauge slugs bounce off the mysterious truck just before he smashes the cruiser with his size and speed. However, McMissile sees what he knew would happen if someone took a shot at his friend.

The TV then goes dark, as Trooper Clark's recorders stopped with the destruction of his battery, and the lights come back on in the squad room.

"This is one of the assailants wanted for questioning in Thomas Peterbuilt's kidnapping!" An Austin Martin DB5 remarks with a thick British accent, looking around at the many different faces before him, then focusing on one in the back.

"Finn!" He barks, and the British hardtop convertible pops his eyes up to his Commissioner with shock, as if his boss could see his thoughts. However, the smooth spy car easily passes the butterflies, allowing him to speak without an uneasy tone to his voice.

"Yes Sir!"

"Take Siddeley, and get to the US as soon as you can. You'll meet up with Mrs. Shiftwell in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Help her infiltrate into Bugsy Duesenberg's mob."

It is not a very well kept secret, and in fact, the smug mobster has hinted several times over the past twenty four hours that he has knowledge no one else does. However, every search has come up empty of even a clue of Thomas' whereabouts, allowing the mobster to look as he is a victim as well.

"Very well sir, but I need to ask a favor first!"

McMissile's request turns the Commissioner's eyes to him showing a look of puzzlement, but before the silver Peerless GT can answer his commander's questioning look, the TV comes alive with a bulletin that gets the entire squad-room's attention.

"This is Special Report from the WCAR news room, live from lower Manhattan, with the newest update on the Peterbuilt Kidnapping, Robin Roadster."

"Hello everyone, this is Robin Roadster with breaking news outside the Freightliner Headquarters here in New York." Remarks the voice that has been following this unfolding story for the past twenty four hours, making updates for the world when any piece of information is uncovered. However, until now, she has had nothing worth while to speak of, but her eyes now show anger and so does her voice.

"Only a moment ago, the press core was witness to the most insensitive statement I've ever heard in my sixteen years as a journalist." She pauses for a moment, unable to break the anger in her voice, trying to remain impartial, but the veteran news woman knows when someone is lying to her face.

"I have no words for what I saw, so I will just let you judge for yourself!"

A video feed begins quickly, showing the scene only a few minutes ago, as a late thirties black and silver Duesenberg sits before a dozen cameras and microphones, making everyone uncomfortable with his words of ill will towards a kidnapping victim.

"I have no knowledge of that worthless brat's whereabouts, and I find it offensive that everyone has singled me out as his abductor." The old car barks with a slight German accent, looking around with his calculating eyes. "The Police have searched every thing I own...from my house in the Hamptons, to these Headquarters of my Family's Business behind me...and guess what they found!"

He pauses, showing a smugness that irritates everyone within sight of his evil smile, and stares into the cameras with arrogance

"Scotland Yard even torn my castle outside Hamburg apart, and found NOTHING! Now if you don't mind...I have a business to run, which will not miss a beat like some other trucking companies will!"

"SHUT THAT THING OFF!" The Commission of Scotland Yard yells, and quickly a young constable turns off the TV.

"I cannot believe that car's attitude, weather he did it or not..." The head of London's police remarks with anger, knowing their best efforts in Europe have produced the same in NYC...nadda.

"...I want this guy taken down McMissile, no matter what, Understood!"

The Commissioner looks over to his left, where Finn was sitting for the last minute, but is shocked noticing the silver sports car has already driven away. He sees his best man sitting by the side exit, just staring, and proceeds to head in his direction.

McMissile then pulls out the door slowly, forcing the Commissioner to follow with a bit of concern, as his friend appears to have something on his mind.

"What is going on Finn?" The Commissioner remarks with an ordering tone. "I've known you for too many years to just bring me out here by the dumpster, unless you had something to tell me that no one should hear...so out with it already!"

"I know who kidnapped the Peterbuilt boy!" Finn replies without delay, and no emotion in his voice, just fact.

"WHAT!"

Finn can see the anger in his boss' eyes, and quickly lets him understand why he kept this quiet during roll call.

"I know this sounds crazy Chief Inspector, but there is no way this vehicle took someones child for ransom." Finn remarks, then shows a very secure look to his commander. "And I'm sure King Royce would agree with me about his family's body guard."

The Chief Inspector's eyes open wide, as this piece of information is given, knowing the King of a small and rich South African country, and how he would never trust his children's safety to just anyone.

"You're telling me that armored truck is Marauder!"

The APC's reputation is known well, though many never get a chance to see him...and live to tell the tale. However, Scotland Yard has always received support from the small southern ally, and Marauder has been the one that personally handled several difficult matters for London's Police force in that country.

"Please Sir! He deserves a chance to explain his actions, before we hunt down a good friend!" Finn remarks, and the Commissioner pauses to think, knowing this truck has never done anything like this.

"I can only give you 24 hours Finn, but then I have to do what is necessary!"

McMissile revs his engine and nods his head, before taring off towards the parking lot.

"I will keep you informed Chief."

The silver Peerless GT is quick to the helipad, where oddly enough a helicopter is NOT waiting. Instead a sleek black and silver Gulfstream V awaits, barely fitting in the large spot with his massive wingspan. Able to land and lift off straight up, the black and silver plane, begins turning his engines down, readying for flight, and a fast jump across the pond.

"I'm fully fueled and ready to go sir!." Siddeley remarks with a smile, waiting patiently for Finn's return from the day's briefing, then giving his own sit-rep.

"We can be in Atlantic City in less than three hours. Holley and Mater are waiting for us there with the boy's mother. Mr. Peterbuilt is still undergoing repairs, but should be awake by the time we arrive!"

"Change of plans friend!" McMissile remarks, rolling around to Siddeley's tail, and entering the plane's belly up a small ramp. He immediately heads for the communications station, and starts making a call to his trusted companion.

"Get me to King Royce's castle in South Africa, Siddeley, and don't save any fuel!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the city that never sleeps, an impromptu press conference is breaking up with angered cars blowing their horns, and making gestures towards the mob-connected trucking mogul.

"Mr. Duesenberg...A question please!" A voice calls out, and the vintage car stops his entry into the large building just outside of Times Square, looking back and spotting the veteran journalist.

"Ms. Roadster, I have answered everyone's questions to the best of my knowledge, and would appreciate some consideration from you and the press core to...LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"But I just wanted to know why several of _your_ trucks were arrested that night for suspicion of kidnapping?"

The question makes Duesenberg come to a grinding stop, and turn his eyes to Robin Roaster with a look of anger, whom continues to add to her evidence of the mob boss' involvement.

"In fact, wasn't a member of your NYC crew seen on Trooper Clark's video, helping in the abduction?"

The old car begins to chuckle, and a large smile crosses his face.

"As I said Ms. Roadster...I answered all the questions the police asked me, and that one was the most important!" The old car remarks smugly. "His name is Flattop, and he was fired weeks before this incident. If you want to know why he did it, then go find him...and ask him!"

Duesenberg rolls into the building, leaving the stunned journalist speechless with his non caring attitude towards a child's abduction, and knowing this evil car has some information to Thomas' whereabouts. However, nothing has been found to prove otherwise. The vintage car laughs all the way to the elevator, knowing he is holding all the cards, and smiles as the doors open to his penthouse suite.

"Good Morning Thomas, did you sleep well!" He remarks, as his eyes lock upon the full sized Dodge Ram, still bound to Flattop's bed.

"Bugsy Dusenberg...what a shock!" The young truck remarks, recognizing the vintage roadster as his father's rival, and recalling the many arguments between them.

"I was wondering if you would actually show your face, since my dad tells me you let everyone else do your work!"

Marauder chuckles inside as the anger consumes Duesenberg's face, being told off by a child. However, as the old car slaps the bound pick up across his already broken grille, the APC's smile disappears.

"DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!" The large truck barks with anger, and Duesenberg balks for a moment.

"I will do what I wish Marauder, and if you keep questioning my order, I will show you the meaning of pain!" The old car remarks, standing strong before the large armored vehicle, and showing his authority.

"I'm the one holding all the cards, and don't you forget it." He yells louder, getting more and more aggressive with the much larger APC.

"Continue to push me, and Peterbuilt will not be the only one grieving...ARE WE CLEAR!"

"Flattop..." Marauder remarks calmly, looking over towards the truck holding Thomas from moving. "...take the boy down to the shop and wait for me, Mr. Duesenberg and myself need to talk alone!"

"WHAT!" The old German car barks, watching with shock as _his_ employee begins to back away.

"FLATTOP, STAY PUT!"

"Ummm...I'm sorry sir, but I can't!"

The small flatbed truck can see the rage in his boss' eyes, and it scares him, however, the look from Marauder is putting the fear of the maker inside Flattop, and he continues to back away.

"You told me to follow Marauder's order without question sir, and I'm not going to disobey either of you...if I'm doing as I was ordered!"

"WHAT?"

Marauder smirks inside again, hearing his order followed before a mob boss from a connected tow-truck, and understanding the amount of courage that took from a lower-level worker.

"Just go Flattop, I will handle this." The red and black APC says, positioning himself between Deusenberg and his defiant employee, making sure the angered car doesn't shoot the flatbed in the back.

"Be careful with that boy, and I will be along in a minute to take care of his wounds!"

The terrified tow-truck heads for the elevator door, leaving two very angered vehicles behind to express their differences alone, and he can hear it begin before the cars start lowering down the lift.

"WHO THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!" Duesenbeurg barks with rage, rolling up to the much larger APC with no fear. However, that fear comes quickly as Marauder finally snaps.

The large red and black truck bounds forward, placing a heavy tire upon the mobster's right fender, and holding him down with hardly any effort.

"I am not your puppet little man!" He replies quietly, but with great rage in his subtle voice. Marauder backs off the old German roadster, leaving the busted fender he easily broke of the strong-built car. like it was nothing.

"I made this warning to you once, and I'm annoyed that I must repeat it, but I will for your simple mind to understand." He remarks with anger, and focuses his eyes hard upon the vintage car, showing a resolve that scares Duesenberg through all twelve of his cylinders.

"I am here to repay a debt owed, and nothing more. If you ever threaten my family or myself again, I will tare you into thousands of pieces, and bury them throughout the Sahara!"

Marauder turns his back towards the mobster with no fear of any weapon the old car could pull upon him.

"Now I am going to fix that young truck, so he and his father can return to a normal life the minute this stupid ordeal is over." Marauder suddenly stops before the elevator, and looks back at the old German roadster, showing him a stern pair of eyes.

"By the way, I consider that boy under my protection now. Hit him again, and find out what else I remove from you...ARE WE CLEAR!"

Deusenberg becomes enraged, but knows he can do nothing to stop the large APC from doing what ever he wants. He just nods his head with a defeated look, and Marauder shows him a wide smirk.

"Just remember old man...even holding all the cards, you can still be beaten!"

The mob boss bites his tongue as the elevator doors close, and quickly a smile fills his arrogant face.

"Not if you have a few aces up your sleeve my friend!" he replies to himself, and presses a button on his desk.

"Perfect timing Sir!" A voice crackles over the intercom speaker.

"How is that weapon coming along Fritz. I may need it sooner than I thought?"

"We just finished the final tests Mr. Duesenberg, and I think you'll like the results!" He replies with a sinister laugh to his voice.

"It should be quite shocking to the big fella!"

* * *

Millions of flashing lights fill the eyes of a brilliant blue tow truck, along with the sounds of a bustling casino floor. Just like in Hawaii, Mater can barely take his attention from the newest adventure in his life.

"Excuse me sir!" A voice calls from his side, and the old tow truck turns his attention to a small car parked by a huge wheel.

"Would you like to try your luck at roulette?"

"Shoot mister, I can't play right now...I'm here with my wife on our honeymoon, and she'd kill me if I lost all our money!" He remarks, looking around for the purple car, but edging closer to the table.

"Well you don't have to wager all of it mister, you can make a small bet too!"

"Really!" Mater remarks, and the casino employee smiles hearing a sucker's voice.

"Sure, it's only ten dollars to play, just pick a number and leave the rest to me!"

"Maybe I'll try once..." Mater says with apprehension, but still places a single ten dollar chip on 23 red.

The casino employee smiles, spins the wheel, and flicks the small ball around the upper rim. It takes a few second for gravity to bring the ball down to the wheel of thirty-eight spaces, but after a few bounces it finds a home

"Twenty-nine!" The casino employee barks with pride, and quickly removes the chip from the table.

"Ummm...that's bad right!" Mater remarks, with a bit of confusion, and the casino worker just smiles.

"That was close sir, but you did not win...no!" The smug car replies, and rolls up to Mater with a wide grin. "However, that doesn't mean you give up, you can still win that money back!"

"Well I'm not one ta give up...no sir!" Mater replies, and pulls out another ten dollar chip. "If I can get there chip back with this here one...then I'm gonna try!"

"That's the spirit!" The sleek sports car replies, and returns to his place beside the wheel. "Just pick another number.

"NO! I like twenty-three, and I'm gonna play it again if its OK with you!"

The casino employee gives a laugh, and spins the wheel, as the blue tow truck place another chip on 23 red.

However, this time Mater watches more intently, and focuses in on the wheel. He can see the magnets influencing the small ball to hit different numbers, and smiles knowing this casino is the one he is looking for.

"Thirty five" the casino employee says with a laugh, and quickly pulls another ten from the table.

"Sorry sir...you lost again!"

"Shoot, that's all the money I got ta play with friend..." he says, and just nods his head to the smug car. "...but, thanks fer showing me this here game, it was one heckova learnin' experience!"

"You welcome..." The car says waiting for the old truck to pull off before finishing his comment.

"...sucker!"

Mater shows anger as he heads for the door, hearing that last word come from the indignant car through a sound magnifier, and making a call the minute he's off the main floor.

"This here's the place Holley..." He remarks, heading out towards the waterfront side of this new casino, and staring up at the brightly lit neon sign. "...it's called the Pinto, come meet me on the Boardwalk side when ya get done over there."

"No Mater, you better get over here first!" She replies, and the light blue tow truck can hear the sounds of anger and rage in the background. "Peterbuilt is awake, and we're having a bit of trouble trying to keep him here...I need your help now!"

"I'm on ma way, sweetheart!" He says with a sense of urgency, making a line for the Atlantic City Expressway, and a long twenty mile trip inland to one of the trucking company's main hubs. It was where Peterbuilt was towed the day of his son's kidnapping, and since that moment, the large truck has been sedated while undergoing surgery to repair his damaged frame.

Mater can now hear Sampson blowing his horn and getting more and more angrier with his wife, whom won't let the truck pass. He waits to leave the confines of Atlantic City's narrow roads, before opening up on the main highway.

"_I'll be there in a flash, darlin'!"_ He remarks to himself, as the small twin engines given to him three years ago, come out of their hiding spot behind his tow lift. With a loud burst of flames, and leaving a trail of white smoke, Mater takes off down the Expressway faster then Siddeley, easily weaving around the limited nighttime traffic.

It takes only a couple of minutes for the jet-powered tow truck to make the trip, but that was enough time for a large angry semi truck to break free from his confinement. Mater can see his wife, hovering above the black and chrome Peterbuilt, striking him with several tazzer shots, but the large truck continues to push forward.

"HEY..." Mater yelps, returning to normal speed as he banks a right turn into the trucking depot. "...STOP FIGHTIN' WITH HER MR. PETERBUILT!"

The large semi's eyes open wide, seeing an old tow truck, and believing he is part of Deusenberg's crew of worthless mob enforcers.

"WHERE'S MY SON?" He yells with rage, overpowering Holley with no effort, and getting nose to nose with Mater.

"What has Bugsy done with him, what does he want from me?"

"I wouldn't know, Sampson..." Mater replies, staring the big rig down without fear in his eyes "...but I promised Doreen I'd do what I can ta find him!"

The large truck suddenly calms down with the simple mentioning of his wife's name, then stares at the light blue tow truck with a curious pair of eyes.

"Are you...Mater?"

The tow truck nods his head, and shows a compassionate smile, placing a gentle tire against the large black truck sitting before him.

"I promise ya big feller, my wife and I are very good at what we do..." Mater remarks, as Holley lands beside her husband, and folds a set of retractable wings into her frame. "...we'll find Thomas, and we'll get 'em back ta ya unharmed, but you're gonna have ta calm down and let us do our job!"

Peterbuilt takes a moment to breathe, and looks down at the scars still marking the spot where he was hit harder then he's ever felt. His eyes glaze over with a defeated look, and his engine begins sputtering with doubt.

"I cannot help to think how this is all my fault..." he remarks somberly, not wanting to return to the shop for his final repairs, hoping to just breakdown where he is and die.

"...I let my boy get taken right from under my nose, and I did absolutely nothing to stop it!"

"That's not what I saw!"

Peterbuilt freezes solid with the sound of his wife's voice, feeling the soothing tone of his love, but also agonizing with a deep pain for the moment he has dreaded.

A green and black Jaguar XKE awaits her husband to turn, but the large truck is so distraught he cannot even look at her, instead forcing his eyes to focus directly on the asphalt, and wishing he could crawl under it. She watches him quickly avert his eyes, and after twenty nine years of marriage, knows exactly why.

His pride and his strength are the reason Sampson is who he is, and now that has all been taken from him with one quick impact to his driver's side.

"You cannot blame yourself for this Sam! I saw the way they attacked you, and this scar proves you did not just let them take Thomas without a fight!" She says softly, rolling up to her husband's damaged driver's door, and placing a tire gently against him.

Doreen then drives directly in front of Sampson's chrome nose, forcing his eyes to focus on her odd back end. A small pickup bed completes the rear section of this old Jag, as a horrific moment in her life proved this car is a fighter as well.

Peterbuilt remains quiet, and she quickly turns around to look him eye to eye.

"Talk to me!" She barks as his eyes shut, not wanting to see the anger his mistake has caused, and utters his disgrace with a broken voice.

"I failed you."

"SAMPSON MICHEAL PETERBUILT..." Doreen yells, grasping her husband's front bumper, and forcing him to open his eyes with shock in her sudden angered outburst of his full name. She shows the fight she has inside, and the reason a powerful tractor trailer fell in love with this car.

"...YOU DIDN'T FAIL ANYONE! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Regardless of how hard she tries, the large truck can see through his wife's facade, and knows she is just trying to keep his spirit up. He sighs heavily, and finally breaks down sobbing.

"I let them take _your baby_ away from you...how is that not failing my wife...or my boy!"

His defeated voice crushes Doreen's spirit in an instant, and she lowers her eyes to the ground as well.

"I could never blame you for what happened Sam, and I need you to know that, because they didn't just take him from _me_!" She says with a pain in her voice, knowing how hard this is on the large rig, as his family is the only thing Peterbuilt cares about.

"Now you get back to the shop as Holley told you!" Doreen continues, looking into her husband's eyes, and making him see she still has a lot of fight inside.

"If we are to get _our baby_ back, Thomas will need his father to be his strongest!"

The large trucker gently nods his head, and turns towards the shop as instructed by his smaller wife, using her strength to continue moving. Mater and Holley can feel the emotions from the broken couple as they enter the large trucking depot together, and the blue tow truck's eyes focus upon his wife, showing the tears he can no longer hide.

"We have ta get this family back together honey!" He says, and Holley quickly rubs her fender against his side, hoping to calm her husband's emotion. However, a sudden call takes both car's attention, as Finn's voice barks out from Holley's communicator.

"Ms. Shiftwell, come in!"

"Yes Finn, we're here!" She replies, projecting a small view of the spy car before her and Mater. "Are you on the way here yet, because we need your help as soon as possible!"

"NO can do..." he replies quickly, and suddenly becomes quiet for a moment. Mater and Holley can see he is trying to hide, so they wait for him to speak again. "...I've found a problem here as well, and this may be the reason the Peterbuilt boy was taken in the first place."

McMissile pauses again, then shows his determined eyes to a former student.

"I've sent Siddeley back with my orders, as I'm sure we are being overheard, so do not contact me until I can clear this issue up, Understood!"

"Yes sir!" Holley replies, and Finn gives both Mater and Mrs Shiftwell a proud smile.

"I have faith in the both of you to do what must be done until I can get there, and I know you will not disappoint me...McMissile Out!"


	4. The South African Connection

Chapter Four: The South African Connection

It took only a few hours for Siddeley to make the long journey across the Atlantic, as McMissile told him to get to the Peterbuilt Depot in South Jersey as fast as possible. Now, sitting in a massive parking area outside the main depot, he opens his tail cone for Mater and Holley whom meet him quickly as well.

"Finn told me to get here straight away..." He remarks with exhaustion, showing the stress three hours of straight after burner power has put on him. "...we've discovered a large piece of this puzzle, but he didn't want to broadcast it for everyone to hear, so he sent me back with valuable information and his orders."

"What is going on?" Holley asks, rolling up into Siddeley's belly with her husband Mater, and hearing the pain-filled jet gasp for a few more breaths before speaking.

"We were shot at Mrs. Shiftwell!" Siddeley replies, showing the purple spy car his video feed upon entering South African airspace. "They gave me permission to land, then tried destroying us as I touched down on the runway."

"Oh my goodness!" She remarks, seeing the amount of rockets fired at him while vulnerable on the ground.

"How in the heck did ya get out of there Sid?" Mater follows, as the video feed ends abruptly, obviously noticing his spy plane friend is still alive and well.

"I have a few tricks up my wings, Sir Mater!" He replies with a bit of arrogance in his voice, then shows another video feed.

"I scattered the rockets heading towards me with a barrage of counter-measures, and at the same time deployed a few flash bangs. No one saw me shoot two missiles at the hangar before I turned on my cloaking device, so they thought I slammed into the building."

Siddeley's face appears upon the video feed, being shown to his friends, expressing the smugness both have see in his eyes before. The great spy plane knows his trick allowed them to leave unnoticed, and gave Siddeley the opportunity he loves.

"They never saw me take twelve more passes either!"

The airfield is shown again, as Siddeley reconned the reason they were shot upon, revealing several Freightliner trucks.

"These trucks are all over the Royce Palace, so we were forced to land in the desert to the north."

Suddenly another video begins playing inside Siddeley's high-tech interior, on that puts a smile on both Mater and Holley's faces.

"First let me express my sorrow for not being at the wedding Mr. and Mrs. Mater, but I had several issues I was dealing with and couldn't just leave them behind..." A recorded message of McMissile announces, showing a look of regret to his good friends. "...I was about to head for Maui, when this situation arose, so I guess my wedding gift will have to wait until we resolve this matter."

McMissile quickly changes gears, working several controls before the camera, showing his comrades a readout of the small South African country he is just north of.

"As I'm sure Siddeley has already shown our gracious welcoming, Duesenberg has his fenders in many cookie jars, and the Peterbuilt boy is not the only issue we will have to face. I have several reasons to believe the Royce family is in grave danger as well, and because of this, the young lorry was taken. It's only a theory so far, but it is the only one that makes sense!"

McMissile pauses for a moment, as several blueprints of the massive Rolls Royce Castle are show to Mater and Holley.

"I need to get inside the palace and make contact with a few friends I have here. I should be able to find out a connection to the Freightliner gang being in South africa, and why the Peterbuilt boy was taken. I will try to make contact, but for the time being I do not want to use open communications, so here are my orders until you hear from me again!"

The video changes from Finn's face to the schematic of a Freightliner truck, showing full details of the rival company's worker.

"Sir Mater, I want you to use your holographic generator to change yourself into one of Duesenberg's men, and try to infiltrate his crew." McMissile's face reappears, making sure to show the rusty tow truck his concern. "However my friend, there is one problem that must be resolved before you do this, and that will require you to have your tail section removed."

"My what!" Mater barks, and McMissile's recording actually answers the tow truck's question, knowing he would be upset with this thought.

"It's only temporary, and must be done if you are to become a flat bedded lorry...you cannot carry a car on your back with just a tow-lift, Sir Mater."

Holley chuckles, seeing an upset look on her husband's face, but quickly returns her attention to the recording as her orders are given in haste as well.

"Miss Shift...I mean Mrs. Mater, I will need you to recon Manhattan!" He pauses again, knowing his student's eyes just popped out of her head, then repeats the order. "Yes...you heard me, my dear. The whole island of Manhattan, including the subway systems!"

"He's crazy!" She replies, however, the video suddenly ends with a quick statement.

"Get what info you can...I will make contact as soon as I find a way to send a secured message. I believe in you both...McMissile out!"

Both newlyweds stare at each other in stunned disbelief as the screen goes blank, and Mater looks into his rear view mirror.

"I need ta remove my tow-lift...is he serious!" The rusty old truck remarks, looking at his wife for an answer. However, a different voice replies, as Doreen had followed her old flame towards the Gulfstream Jet that landed in her husband's depot.

"What's the matter with removing a tail section and replacing it with another?" the X type Jaguar remarks with an attitude, quickly showing the pick-up truck bed that makes up her rear end.

"I thought it was what attracted you to me back in the day, Mater!"

Holley quickly shows a big smile, as Mater blushes from Doreen's comment, knowing all about this odd green and black Jaguar pick-up, and understanding her husband's special connection to Doreen.

It was on the long ride from Radiator Springs to New Jersey, when Holley learned of this incredible car and a moment in Doreen's life that changed her complexion forever. A terrible accident along Route 66 destroyed the back portion of the stunning sports car, but quick actions by Doc Hudson, and a very odd idea by one smart tow truck, brought her back to life with a new look.

"It was never the way ya looked, Doreen..." Mater returns, recalling the entire week of work he, Doc Hudson, and Ramone had done to fix the damage that would normally send a car to the junkyard for scrap.

"...it was the way you fought ta survive, that's what made me like ya so much!"

Doreen smiles, but also shows the pain of her choice to leave him so long ago. However, her heart doesn't feel the pain for too long, as the sound of her husband's engine begins rumbling from outside.

"Doreen! Where are you, baby?" He calls out, and she quickly toots her horn to signal Sampson, whom immediately heads for the silver and black Gulfstream sitting in the large parking lot

"Please big fella, I don't think I can handle everyone!" Siddeley remarks, as the large semi heads for his tail section. The large truck smiles for a moment, and comes to a stop just outside.

"What is going on in here...have you found out anything?"

All three cars show a slight grin, as they can see the large truck is completely healed, and running at 100%.

"We have some leads that we need to work on Mr. Peterbuilt, but for now, nothing new. I'm sorry" Holley replies quickly, trying to keep both parents in the loop, but not giving away any real information.

"Well, whatever I have...is at your disposal, and if I don't have it...I will make sure I get it for you!" The large semi responds, looking towards the two that came to help find their son. "Whatever is necessary to help get our boy back."

Mater looks at his wife, and lowers his head for a moment.

"Do ya happen ta have the rear section of a flatbed lyin' around!" He remarks, and both Holley and Doreen smile, knowing he is going to change his look.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the headquarters of Peterbuilt's rival, the loud noise of an air compressor and the prying of metal are the only sounds heard, as a young Dodge pick-up refuses to speak to the one repairing his nose and fenders. Thomas, now held tightly on a wheel lift, keeping the truck from running while he is repaired, shows no interest in the large red APC's conversational skills, ignoring everything said to him.

"There! Is that more comfortable now?" Marauder asks as he removes the final broken section of Thomas' grille, pressing against his engine block, and though the relief is very agreeable to him, the young pickup remains quiet.

"I'll take a wild guess and say yes!" The large armored vehicle says a bit sarcastically, but understands the young truck's defiance, as he continues to repair the damage done while abducting him.

"I'm also gonna guess you will continue ignoring me no matter what, so apologizing for my actions would be pointless too!"

Thomas can see anguish fill the eyes of the one fixing his nose, but turns his focus from the large truck, staring blindly at the clock on the wall to his right.

"Well even if you do not want to listen to me, I will still say I am sorry for the way I struck your father. I didn't want to hurt him like that!"

Thomas's eyes slowly return to Marauder, showing a great deal of pain.

"I just wanted to clip him from the side, and lay him over gently...I never meant to take him head on, and frighten his son."

"Is my dad still alive?"

Just hearing his voice is music to Marauder's ear, though his question is painful and blunt. However, the large APC shows a smile, as Thomas says his first words to him. He knows the young truck has been kept in the dark, and has not heard the reports of Peterbuilt's injuries on the news.

"Like I told you that night...he is fine. His injuries were serious, but I made sure he would be found quickly, and your father is now recovering at his South New Jersey Depot."

Thomas' fear drops quickly with the information of his dad's condition, believing the large truck at his word, as his eyes never waver while talking.

"Why did you do this to us?" The pick up suddenly asks, looking deep into Marauder's solid eyes, and not seeing evil. He truly wants an answer, and presses the issue with a direct statement of what he sees before him

"I don't understand why someone, who doesn't seem like a complete jerk, would be working for Bugsy Duesenberg."

Marauder closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before returning to his work.

"It's a very story..."

"Well I don't think I'll be going anywhere for sometime!"

Marauder can see the smug look on Thomas' face the moment his eyes reopen, and a slight smile crosses his. He turns away from the youngster, grasping a new front grille, and placing it upon the front of Thomas' nose.

"What I was going to say was...It is a long story, that I don't wish to tell!"

Thomas shows an angered pair off eyes that actually cut through Marauder's armor, making the large truck feel his rage

"Well I don't wish to be strapped to a lift!" He replies, pulling on all four of his tires fruitlessly, before continuing with a very sarcastic tone in his voice. "So since we both have issues we don't wish to experience, lets hear this long story about why I am here!"

Marauder becomes silent, just staring at the young truck with no expression.

"Oh! So now you become quite...I understand!"

The large truck remains silent, turning to his left, and grasping an impact wrench. He begins fastening the new grill to Thomas' nose, and the young truck just sighs heavily.

"I'm sorry I misspoke before..." he remarks, turning his eyes away towards the clock again. "...I guess you are a jerk, and should be working for Duesenberg!"

Marauder suddenly chuckles, bringing Thomas' attention back to him, and showing the young pick up a wide grin

"You're a very persistent young man, and that is good, but what I will tell you will only enrage you further, so I _should_ not say another word."

Thomas becomes enraged anyway, hearing the teasing statement from this large truck, but still notices a smile on the red APC's face. He thinks about what he heard, suddenly recalling the single word Marauder emphasized.

"I can handle anything you tell me..." Thomas replies calmly, and notices Marauder's smile increase. "...and I promise I will not become enraged, because I really want to know."

Thomas pauses looking directly into his kidnapper's face, and showing a genuine want in his eyes.

"Why are _we_ here?"

"That is a promise I know you cannot keep" The Large APC replies before turning away to his bench, and Thomas lowers his head with a rejection to the plea he thought _should_ work.

"Please mister. I must know why?"

Marauder quickly turns back, hearing the young truck's sobbing tone, and places his tire over the new grille he just installed.

"Easy young one...I was only grabbing your new fender, before I start telling you why WE are here, so just relax, and try not to cry on the new paint."

Thomas shows a look of shock, hearing the large truck begin talking about himself, and quickly hushes his engine to hear every word.

"I am a royal guard to the Royce family in South Africa..." He says, and Thomas' eyes open wide, hearing the name recognized throughout the world as the richest car on Earth.

"ROLLS ROYCE?"

"Yes..." Marauder replies to the question, then stares into Thomas' eyes with an attitude. "...but please don't interrupt me again!"

The full size Dodge pick up balks with Marauder's sarcastic comment, but smiles seeing the grin upon the large truck's face.

"I'm sorry!" he retorts with his own sarcastic tone, and Thomas shuts down his engine completely, showing his complete attention to the large red truck.

"You may continue!"

"Yes...as I was saying..." Marauder remarks with a grin, placing a pristine black front fender against Thomas' side, and bolting it tightly to his exposed front frame. "...I am the royal guard to his highness King Royce, and it was several months back when my son made a big error in judgment, causing a chain of events that have led us here!"

Thomas says nothing, but his eyes show a different look suddenly, and Marauder becomes a bit anxious knowing anger without hearing it expressed.

"Yes, you heard me young man. You are here because of my son, and I am sorry for that!" The large truck says. "He made a simple mistake, and caused a problem that no one saw coming, but should have."

"I don't get it!" Thomas says, still not understanding why he is here. "How can something in South Africa involve me?"

"My entire family has been protecting the Royce's for seven generations, and my son is in charge of the oldest daughter, Silver Cloud." The large truck replies, rolling around to his work bench and retrieving Thomas' passenger side fender.

"The girl is a huge pain in the trunk, Thomas!" He continues, knowing how much trouble the spoiled luxury car can be, and how his son never lets her have her way.

"She one day decide to replace her platinum gas cap with a diamond one!" The large truck shakes his head knowing how dumb this sounds, but what happen after is was what led to a young truck's kidnapping.

"Silver Cloud tricked my son, and left his protection to go looking for a big enough diamond to suit her, and the naïve girl ended up in a neighborhood I'm afraid to drive through. She was cornered in seconds by a gang, but my son was quick to her rescue..." Marauder pauses for a moment, knowing how a simple wrong turn made this situation happen.

"...in a panic to get her out of danger, he made a wrong turn that led him into a cave, and they ended up trapped inside. He used a powerful gun to cut a hole into an adjoining cave, and got Silver Cloud out of danger. However, his actions brought down the entire cave."

"So!" Thomas remarks, still not understanding yet.

"That was not just a cave, but a diamond mine he destroyed, and it happened to belong to a certain jerk we both know by the name of Deusenberg!"

Thomas' eyes open wide, finally making a connection, and only one syllable comes from his stunned mouth.

"OH!"

Marauder breaks the silence, continuing with more information that begins to anger Thomas more and more.

"The mob boss came to collect, but not from my son Wrangler... he went to Rolls Royce himself!"

Thomas can see the panic now fill Marauder's face, as the large truck recalls the conversation that took place.

"He blamed Cloud for destroying a one hundred million dollar investment, and demanded the King repay him!"

Marauder looks back to the young truck, and lowers his head.

"His Majesty refused, and Duesenberg simple bowed and drove away." His eyes open with rage, knowing how well the mob boss played him in the next moment.

"He came to me and threatened to kill her, because my son destroyed the cave." The large APC, closes his eyes, as he then reveals the biggest reason Thomas will become upset. "I quickly asked how I could repay this debt without bloodshed..."

"Let me Guess..." Thomas says, cutting off the large truck before he could finish. "...his idea was to kidnap me, and force my father to give up his rights to the East Coast trucking routes...right?"

Marauder's eyes open wide, hearing the exact thing he would have to do in order to repay such a huge debt.

"He told me I could clear this whole thing up with a simple favor...I just didn't know what he meant, and by the time I did...it was too late!"

"Why didn't you say no when you found out?"

Marauder stops talking again, and Thomas begins to huff as his engine restarts. His rage is clearly expressed in a burst of black diesel smoke as the RPMs rev higher.

"My father has been fighting with Deusenberg for as long as I can remember..." Thomas remarks, turning his eyes back to the clock with a very angered expression. "...and now because of you and your family, my dad has to just hand over everything he fought to build."

The young truck pauses for a moment, allowing a single tear to fall from his windshield. However, he tightens himself up, before returning a pair of enraged eyes towards Marauder.

"You were right, that was a promise I couldn't keep if I tried." He says with pain in his voice, truly upset about showing any respect to this large truck, and turns his eyes towards the large clock for good.

"I'm sure you'll be happy with the final outcome...you selfish jerk! Now my family will suffer instead of yours!"


	5. Phase Two Begins

**A chapter with some action for those of you thirsting for a fight or two.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Phase Two Begins

For several hours Finn has sat idle, waiting for an opportunity to sneak into the Royal palace of King Royce, however, the Freightliner gang has been very observant, keeping no one from going in or out. Even his best disguises wouldn't matter, as everyone has been violently escorted away from the gate, and warned to stay away under threat.

That has not stopped the best British Spy from doing his job, and observing the situation from his point of view, however, after four hours, Finn is becoming agitated with his lack of progress.

"_This is ridiculous!"_ he thinks to himself, seeing dozens of the small flat beds and larger semis circling the posh Royce Castle.

"_I can't use this information if I can't even get into the palace!"_

"How can this be happening, and Scotland Yard has no knowledge."

"I was wondering that myself!" A female's voice replies from the shadows, and Finn quickly knows who is behind him.

"Well young lady..." He remarks, turning around to see the member of the Royce family that caused this problem, however, his eyes fill with shock upon seeing her. McMissile is at a loss for words seeing a car he doesn't recognize as the early sixties model Rolls Royce, but a modern version of the luxury car.

"...Silver Cloud?"

"Hey Cousin Finn...long time no see!" She replies with the same crooked smile she has always shown her favorite distant relative, and very good friend. She slowly shies away feeling her guilt return in an instant.

"I was hoping England would send someone soon, and I'm just glad they sent you." The two-toned silver and gray Rolls Royce says with a slightly depressed voice, showing the strain in her eyes of the longest two months she's ever lived.

"I messed up really big Finn..." She continues, suddenly looking back as another large vehicle approaches from behind. "...and my friend Wrangler has been so mad at me."

McMissile's eyes focus upon a large red and black APC, as he rumbles up to the back of Silver Cloud's trunk.

"Would you stop leaving the palace without a guard Silve..." he begins to yell, then notices the Peerless GT she is talking to.

"McMissile!" He says with total shock, truly thankful to see some help has finally arrived.

"It's about time old friend!"

"What is going on here Wrangler?" The British secret agent asks, happy to see the son of his good friend is still alive along with a member of the royal family, but wanting the information he has been trying to recon himself.

"Siddeley and I were shot at and forced to land in the northern desert..." he continues, looking at several Freightliners rolling around the palace, keeping their constant vigil. "...how in the name of the Queen did your father allow this to happen?"

"It wasn't his Dad!" Silver Cloud cuts in, pulling McMissile's angered eyes towards her, and feeling the shame of what she did to start this trouble.

"This is my fault, Finn."

"Your fault?" McMissile's voice is filled with a questioning tone, but the look of depression that comes from his Uncle's daughter tells him, she is not lying. The spy car shuts down his engine and shows Silver Cloud a very annoyed look, understanding this luxury car's ability to find trouble.

"OK...you've got my attention! What did you do that could have caused his father to kidnap a boy over five thousand miles from here?"

Silver Cloud recalls the stupidity that lead her into a cave she did not belong, and the destruction that followed as her bodyguard got her out of harms way. With pain in her eyes, she quickly lets the car she respects more than anyone on Earth, even her father, know about the spoiled actions that lead her into a trap.

"I just wanted to get out of the palace for a while..." She replies, looking down at the ground, knowing her excuse is meaningless. "...I'm so sorry cousin...I didn't mean for all this to happen."

"Easy Cloud!" Wrangler remarks, hearing her engine begin to sputter, and resting a tire against her fender. "This was as much my fault as yours, and you need to stop blaming yourself for this."

The large APC comforts the princess of the Royce family, before returning his eyes to McMissile.

"This situation is getting desperate Finn, and I don't know how much longer I can stall for time, before I force my father to play his hand!"

"What are you talking about?" The spy car replies with a puzzled look, seeing deep concern in Wrangler's eyes, and knowing that stare from his father.

"My dad is the only reason the Royce Family is still alive, and also why the Peterbuilt boy will have a chance to survive..."

The large truck stops talking abruptly, sensing several Freightliners with his radar, sweeping the area for spies.

"Great, we have company." He silently remarks, pushing Silver Cloud back the way they came. "Come on Finn, we'll take the North tunnel into the palace, and finish our discussion there!"

"Very well!" Finn replies happily, hoping to learn more of what is going on, then quickly following the two towards a large stone wall.

Cloud quickly flashes her high beams, and after a fast sequence unlocks a visual sensor, the wall begins to lift up, exposing a secret tunnel into the Royce Palace. However, the noise of this moving stone is overheard by the group searching.

"HEY! WHO'S IN THERE?" A gruff voice calls out, suddenly calling for more reinforcements.

"GET OVER HERE GUYS...WE HAVE INTRUDERS!"

"CLOUD WAIT!" Wrangler barks, hearing the voices shouting from outside. He grasps her by the rear bumper, and yanks the silver Rolls Royce back out of the tunnel. Wrangler quickly fires two rockets from his roof, down the long tube, destroying the structure like he did a diamond mine, making sure no one can travel down it again.

"What are you doing?" Silver Cloud gasps, but Finn understands the smart move he made, answering the girl's question as Wrangler goes to work to find a different escape route.

"He's keeping them out of your father's palace, so I think will need to find a new way inside." McMissile remarks with concern,

Suddenly three large trucks smash into the room they are sitting, and lock their eyes upon the silver Rolls Royce.

"We have the girl, everyone head for the north supply hut!".

Wrangler immediately opens two compartments on his left and right fenders, revealing the powerful .50 cal mini guns mounted to his sides.

"Sorry Dad!" The large APC remarks aloud, ripping all three smaller-sized semis apart in mere seconds, and knowing with every shot that leaves his gun, he is pressing a delicate issue in New York City...Issues he knows his father will have problems dealing with.

These are the first members of Duesenberg's gang to be killed by Marauder's son, and he knows they will not be the last.

"_This is not gonna make him happy with me again, I'm sure." _Knowing his father told him to wait for HIS signal.

Wrangler begins contacting his family inside, warning them to begin an evacuation of the palace, and an early start of a plan laid out by a master strategist.

"OK girl, I hope you're ready for phase two...because, ready or not, it's time we fight back!" The red truck barks out, and Cloud's eyes open wide, knowing a plan she was told by her bodyguard, and good friend, has begun.

A large smile fills her face, however, Finn is clueless in the moment, and just looks over at Wrangler with a cheeky smirk.

"I still don't know what phase one was all about, so I would appreciate if someone could fill me in on what we are doing at this moment?"

* * *

Meanwhile, on the brightly lit streets of Atlantic City, a small flatbed tow truck sits just outside the Pinto Casino, quietly waiting for the one he was sent to observe. Disguised to look exactly like a small Freightliner flatbed, the slightly rusted truck acts his part while graciously smiling at all the possible customers driving by.

Knowing the casino, rigged to cheat the customers, is his location to find Duesenberg, Mater quickly found a nice dark place to sit, and waits for his target to exit. However, new to the idea of keeping a low profile, but not new to servicing the public, the rusty blue flat-bed quickly opens his mouth seeing a terrible moment about to unfold.

"Careful sir!" He remarks, as a distracted Porsche begins heading towards a large pot-hole in the road.

"WHOA!" The sports car barks out, swerving away at the last second, and applying his brake. He looks back at the slightly rusty flatbed and nods his head.

"Thanks mister!"

"Don't mention it there friend, just watch the road next times all, and not that there pile a money ya just won!"

The Porsche gives him an embarrassed grin, before placing his wallet back inside his trunk, and proceeding down the road. The small flatbed takes a breath of relief, as the young sports car leaves with a more stable path, knowing he may have saved his life later down the road.

"HEY IDIOT!" Another voice remarks, rolling up behind the rusty truck, and staring into his startled eyes with anger.

"You just cost me an easy paycheck..." He continues, as he was waiting for someone to slam the pot-hole he created. "...find your own place to go fishing!"

"Fishin'!" The rusty truck replies, not truly understanding the angered flatbed yelling in his face. However, he quickly understand violence, as this large truck hits him with a sudden thrust forward.

"You also didn't pay for a permit to work MY TOWN!" The larger truck barks, hitting the rusty flatbed again.

"You don't belong here!

"Dad gum mister, I didn't know ya needed a permit in this here city." The scared new guy remarks, not realizing the restrictions to his working certain areas. "I'll go somewheres else."

"NOT SO FAST TINY!" The angered flatbed replies, latching the smaller truck with his front winch, and pulling him into the street.

"You need to learn a lesson first!"

The smaller truck becomes slightly concerned, believing he is going to blow his cover in the first few hours. However, his sensors suddenly notice the three cars he was waiting for, and a small grin fills his face. His opportunity could not have presented itself any better.

"I'm warnin' ya mister!" The rusty truck barks out, getting the attention of two vintage roadsters and a blacked out Mercedes, exiting the private gold garage door on the side of the Pinto Casino. He knows from his files, the old Duesenberg, his lawyer Stewart D. Baker, and their bodyguard Becker.

"I don't like ta fight, but I know how ta do it real good, and I will hurt ya if ya push me again!"

"WHY YOU LITTLE..." The angered flatbed barks, thrusting forward to smash the smaller truck, however, Mater backs away, and latches his front winch cable to the charging truck's bumper. He turns hard to the right, flipping the larger vehicle against the hard concrete wall of the Pinto's parking garage.

"Please, stop it mister!" He remarks calmly, but the large truck becomes incensed, and charges again. The large flatbed receives the same violent treatment, as Mater throws him against a light pole on the other side of the street.

"This is not what I want...don't do this ta yerself!"

"Mr. Duesenberg..." The second of two old roasters remarks, noticing the fight that just broke out before them is one of the Freightliner gang's enforcers. "...I don't think you should be seen here if the police show up sir."

"Be quiet, Stewart! I want to see this!" The old roadster replies, staring intently at the smaller truck tossing his best man in Atlantic City around like a rag doll. "I've never seen anyone make Lockjaw look stupid in a fight!"

"It's because he is stupid, sir!" the black Mercedes remarks, seeing another fruitless charge by the stubborn truck, and a vicious slam that suddenly ends the fight.

"And that is why I told you we could have replaced him with a toaster-oven!"

The black Benz suddenly lunges forward and slams the rusty tow truck from the blind side, sending a shooting pain down Mater's entire chassis. He quickly spins around with shock, as the black luxury car rolls forward again, slamming the newbie directly in the nose.

"Brawn is not how you win fights!" The black car barks towards Lockjaw, showing the large enforcer how to enforce. He goes to hit the rusty truck with another precise shot again, but the small flat bad backs away, only getting a portion of the force. Becker suddenly feels a winch hook under his frame, and is tugged hard to a dead stop.

"OK pal...ya want some of this too!" Mater remarks with a bit of anger in his voice, and pulls the smaller car towards him. However, the Benz is not a dumb brute, and quickly lunges forward to take slack, removing the cable before the rusted truck could toss him across the street.

"Nice Try..." The Black Mercedes retorts, quickly drawing back to a safe distance "...but you are too slow for my type of speed and power."

Mater becomes very concerned, as his spy instruments begin going crazy, showing the weapons hidden under the skin of this massive luxury sedan begin loading. He looks over at the two roadsters the black car was with and can see a wry smirk on the older silver Duesenberg's grille.

"What'd I do ta ya guys?" He cries with fear in his voice, acting his part out perfectly. "I'm only tryin' to support ma family, mister. I didn't know I needed some stupid permit ta help people, honest!"

"Then maybe you should have learned the rules before coming to a new town, Rust Bucket!" The old car remarks sarcastically, and Mater shows an angered pair of eyes.

"WHAT?" He barks, acting as if he has no clue who he is talking to. "You don't own the whole city mister, and ya can't make me leave neither!"

The Black Mercedes Benz begins laughing hard, and stares at the defiant flatbed, barking at a car that owns a large amount of the city he sits in.

"You have no idea how mistaken you are!" He smugly says with a grin, then charges Mater once again. The rusty flatbed gives a slight smirk himself, knowing his chance to prove himself has come quickly.

Mater uses his best talent, backing up at full speed, and forcing the Black Benz to give chase, however the bodyguard's eyes open wide, seeing the sudden path this seven ton flat-bed has chosen.

"HEY!" the two vintage cars bark with fear, as Mater heads backwards towards Duesenberg and his attorney. The Black Mercedes also shows concern, as the tow truck's eyes are focus upon him and not where he's going.

"HOLY COW! STOP YOU IDIOT!" He yells with concern, however, the rusty truck picks up his pace, and passes between Duesenberg and Stew D. Baker, missing both by fractions of an inch.

The Black Mercedes, shocked at how this large truck zipped in between his friends, loses his focus for a split-second, and is forced to brake hard. He can see his path will not bring him through clean, and the large powerful sedan begins sliding on his feet.

Embarrassingly, the Black Merc smacks into the two roadsters he's paid to protect, cracking his nose into the silver divers-side fender of his boss, which buffets him sideways into the Studebaker's grille. This leaves the Merc's passenger door exposed for Mater, whom returns on his narrow path between the startled vintage roadsters. He slams the black bodyguard directly in his exposed side, sending him flying down the road tumbling end over end.

"Dad gum...he rolls better than them dice did fer me yesterday!" Mater says sarcastically, looking into the eyes of an old Duesenberg, whom begins to settle with this rusty truck's still calm attitude.

"Yes. I agree." The old Duesenberg replies with a chuckle in his voice, as his bodyguard stops rolling, ending upside down by the other busted member of his crew.

"It appears he has crapped out!"

Mater smiles himself for a moment, before cautiously rolling over to the black Mercedes, and righting him back to his wheels. However, his eyes never leave the mob boss, knowing his situation is still serious.

"I'm really sorry 'bout doin' what I did, but I'm not just gonna let people drive all over me." He says, barely showing any strain in his voice from the two fights he just won convincingly. "I didn't come here ta hurt no one. I'm just lookin' for work to pay the bills!"

Mater quickly turns his eyes to the black sedan he rolled with a powerful impact.

"I have been fightin' my whole life, young feller, and I can tell ya this much fer certain, that was the most scared I've ever been in a brawl" he remarks, showing respect to the car that tried taking on a truck that out weighed him by several tons. "Yer a perty good scrapper"

"Who the hell are you?" The black Mercedes remarks with pure shock, as the rusty flatbed continues giving a gentle touch, laying the black car's flat tires to the pavement carefully.

"Sorry, that's rude a me. My name's Javelin, and its a pleasure ta meet ya mister! " Mater replies, looking deep into the stunned eyes of the car he just got done fighting, and acting as if he met a new friend.

"What are you stupid or something?" The black Merc replies, completely dumbfounded with this tow truck's smiling face. He quickly draws a 9mm pistol from his passenger fender, pointing it directly at Javelin's windshield.

"I believe the pleasure will be all mine now!"

"LOWER YOUR WEAPON BECKER!" Duesenberg barks with anger, and quickly the black Mercedes holsters his gun, startled with more shock as his boss rolls forward with a wide grin.

"This truck has a serious set of lugs nuts!" The old roadster remarks, staring into the small flatbed's eyes, before giving another reason not to shoot him.

"And besides that, I've never seen anyone handle tight quarters in reverse that fast before!"

"That ain't nuthin' mister..." Javelin replies with a bit of shakiness in his voice, still seeing his life flash before his eyes. He takes a deep breath, then brings his attention towards the mob boss, and starts wiggling his side mirrors.

"...as long as yer rearviews are clean, backing up is easier than drivin' forwards sir!"

The old Duesenberg stares at this new flatbed with a cautious eye, sizing up the rusty truck, before turning his attention to the Studebaker rolling up behind him.

"Are you OK Stewert?" He asks, seeing his friend losing water from his damaged nose.

"I'm fine, Bugsy!" The red roadster replies, looking at Becker with anger in his eyes. "I was just thinking about getting a new toaster-over to protect us!"

The vintage Duesenberg chuckles at his friend's wise remark, however, Javelin's eyes open wide.

"Excuse me sir...but...did he call you, Bugsy?" The flatbed asks with a tone of caution in his voice, and the vintage roadster can see the fear his name brings.

"Yes he did, so what of it?"

Mater can hear Duesenberg's voice is tainted with anger, and he smiles inside.

"_I am so good!"_ He says to himself, before returning to his act.

"I can't hardly believe ma dumb luck." Javelin barks out with a sudden excitement, lunging forward to shake the great union leader's tire. "My daddy told me all about you mister Duesenberg. Yer the car that has helped so many of ma brothers over the years."

The mob boss suddenly yanks his front tire from Javelin's grip, but shows a thin smile.

"Yes, um...thank you son!" He says with a tone of surprise, expecting a different reaction.

"No! Thank you, and again I am real sorry for beatin' up yer friends and all!" Javelin replies with a smile, and the black Mercedes growls with anger.

The vintage car begins laughing at the flatbed's comment, and turns to his attorney once again.

"What do you think Stewart?" The Duesenberg asks calmly, still sizing up this rusty truck, and making an easy choice "Should we hire this flatbed for a ride back to the city, and help a fellow union workers son!"

"I'm fine with the idea!" The Studebaker replies, as steam begins billowing from his hood. "I just ran out of water, so I need a lift anyway."

"Really...You want me ta carry...you!" Javelin barks out, shaking with the anticipation of hoisting a vintage roadster on his back.

"Can you make it to New York without bumping me around any further?" The early forties Studebaker remarks with sarcasm, as the rusty tow truck lines up his bed with the red car.

"Well that there all depends on this guy!" Javelin replies with the same amount of sarcasm, staring at the large flatbed he totaled first. "Did ya put any other potholes out there I should know 'bout."

Lockjaw grumbles as the smaller flatbed winches the old Studebaker atop his tail section, and Duesenberg chuckles again.

"I like this guy! He's..."

Duesenberg suddenly stops talking as a silent ringer vibrates for his private phone. Without a single word, the old roadster backs away and answers the call.

"WHAT!" He yells after a few words spoken, and immediately hangs up the phone.

"We need to get going now!" He barks out with rage, rolling directly up to Javelin's grille.

"You better know how to move fast, or you will lose more than a new job...Understood!"

"Yes sir!" Javelin replies, and quickly tails the old Duesenberg as he tares off down the road.

"I'm guessin' that was a bad call!" Javelin remarks quietly to his passenger, and Stewart D. Baker remains silent, knowing exactly where that private call had come from.

"Be quiet, and stay on his trunk Javelin!" The attorney commands, watching his boss begin hitting gears he never uses, and pushing his speed to three digits.

"I've never seen him this angry before..." The Studebaker continues, knowing his friend's rage will fall on those around him.

"...so I would seriously suggest NOT falling behind!"

* * *

**There appears to be some interesting reasons for this kidnapping, and the next chapters will reveal a lot. Let me know if you're enjoying by reviewing.**


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